The Meatworks
The Den has the Blood Pits, the Bay has Tall Johnny's Cages and Slaver's Row has The Meatworks. There was enough blood flowing round Sunberth to keep any thirsty physcopath statisfied but for some, men had lost their appeal. They wanted to see true animals fight, not the screwed sadists that weren't worthy of the title.
Nestled in the back of the city was a a weathered old building, its wood worn, scarred and splattered with blood. Any windows that had once let light flow in freely had been boarded up and forgotten. In late evening when night fell and the moon hung high the sky, barking and growling could be heard from men and beast alike. Cheering and screaming often resonated through the walls as depraved individuals watched the fights unravel before them.
Stepping into the building one would find the air thick with smoke, sweat and a thick jostling crowd. There was no bar or seating, just a simple ring with a wooden fence three feet high to separate the crowd from the fight. The ring had one wooden gate and caged path beyond it, leading off into a backroom where no man but Logan McConner was allowed. If a poor soul managed to sneak into the back room they would find it lined with various cages, filled all sorts of vicious dogs amongst other more wild animals the owner had managed to procure before a pack of guard dogs ripped out his throat.
The Meatworks had many events, all of which were gambled upon by a set of designated bookmakers, all of whom paid a handsome cut to Logan. Sometimes they were fairly tame, how many Brats a dog could kill in allotted time or two roosters pecking each other to death. More often than not it was two dogs fighting each other, whether Logan was testing his own beasts against each other though he frequently enjoyed testing his own breeds against any outsider who wished to put his dog on the line. It had even become a common practice to capture a decent looking stray to fight in the ring, both dealing with the problem of wild dogs and giving the "owner" a chance to line his own pockets though Logan outright refused to even test his pack against a skinny mutt that was nearly dead.
On occasion bulls, bear or other animals of the kind would be brought in to fight against his pack, what few farmers that existed in Sunberth were happy to save both the trouble of slaughter and the accept some Mizas for sentencing its beast to death. Rarely though did Logan accept humans as worthy opponents, he had little respect for humans themselves and would only let them fight if they were skilled as unarmed opponents as he refused to allow armed or armoured men into his ring. If they wanted to fight, they had to fight like an animal.
Once a fight is over, the bodies are quickly removed to the back room to be dealt with. Most assume that they are fed to the animals he keep in his cages but rumour has it that Kane Baker has been seen hovering around The Meatworks after dark.
Name: Logan McConnor
Race: Human
DoB: Fall 78, 483 AV (31 years old)
PoB: Sunberth
Title: Kennel master
Skills: Animal Husbandry (67), Intimidation (43), Weapon - Cleaver (31), Butchery (30), Organisation (17), Gnosis: N/A
Additional Info: Born and raised in Sunberth, Logan never an ideal childhood by the standards of any city. He was the son of butcher, an abusive man with a chip on his shoulder who frequently took his anger regarding his inadequacies out on his son. Whether through nature or nurture Logan soon became a tortured soul, no child wanted to be seen playing with him and so he turned to stray dogs as both a comfort and an outlet for his rage.
He took a job at Killroy's Kennel when he was old enough to hold a pitchfork and start shovelling horseshit. He never cared much for the beasts under Killroy's ownership bar the dogs he kept. Over the years he assumed more responsibility in Kennel's, first cleaning them then training them and finally breeding them until he became the unofficial Kennel master. Rumour has that he garnered his desire to breed the perfect fighting dog when his father came to the Kennel's, still after all his years taking his anger out on his now adult son who had always lacked the Butcher's own brute force, and in the heat of the moment had ordered his dogs to attack.
From then on he became obsessed with the concept of the perfect breed, mixing wild dogs with obedient breeds as he neglected his duties to Killroy and his business. He was eventually fired when a potential buyer tried to buy one of his earlier attempts at this perfect breed and instead found his neck decorating the walls. He didn't leave willingly, instead forced out by Killroy's thug onto the street with nought but a pouch of gold.
No-one knows where he got the money to set up his dog pits nor the beasts to fill the cages. Most dismiss the fire that spread through Kennels and killed Killroy as an unrelated event, but some are suspicious that none of Logan's dogs perished in the fire nor could be found afterwards.
Now he runs the Meatworks, always followed by a pair of the feircest dogs he had bred that still retained the itelligence to only obey him. He's not finished yet, The Meatworks will only be closed when he has the perfect breed at his disposal and he won't accept anything less. 
Name: Garreth "The Filcher" Beckett
Race: Human
DoB: Summer 86, 464 AV (52 years old)
PoB: Zeltiva
Title: Bookmaker
Skills: Mathematics (57), Observation (41), Negotiation (39), Larceny (30), Rhetoric (27) Gnosis: N/A
Additional Info: Born in Zetliva's rough East Street, Garreth is practically the embodiment of wasted potential. He was the son of cobbler and at young age he displayed a remarkable knack for numbers, his skill was hardly of genius levels but for a boy with little formal education he had a clearly a mind for mathematics. His father worked hard to pay for his tuition in the University, hoping one day that his invest would pay off and he would be lifted from the slums but Garreth proved to be one big disappointed after another. For a time his rebellious nature was forgiven, he showed real promise in classes and what was few missing Mizas here and there anyway?
It wasn't larceny though that forced him out of Zeltiva, it was boredom. Amongst the educated snobs of the University he found himself both a social outcast and incredibly bored with their stupidity. He knew full well that his father would either force him back into the Univeristy if he left or make him pay back ever single coin back so instead he packed his bags and left for the city of Sunberth.
Will most outsiders struggled with its nature, Garreth on the other hand embraced it. Betting on everything he could find someone willing to match and in Sunberth there was always someone willing to make a bet. Nowadays he is one of Sunberth's most prolix bookmakers, matching his sharp mind with a silver tongue as he worked the various fighting pits of the city with ease and took larger, more risky bets for an addictive high.
The Den has the Blood Pits, the Bay has Tall Johnny's Cages and Slaver's Row has The Meatworks. There was enough blood flowing round Sunberth to keep any thirsty physcopath statisfied but for some, men had lost their appeal. They wanted to see true animals fight, not the screwed sadists that weren't worthy of the title.
Nestled in the back of the city was a a weathered old building, its wood worn, scarred and splattered with blood. Any windows that had once let light flow in freely had been boarded up and forgotten. In late evening when night fell and the moon hung high the sky, barking and growling could be heard from men and beast alike. Cheering and screaming often resonated through the walls as depraved individuals watched the fights unravel before them.
Stepping into the building one would find the air thick with smoke, sweat and a thick jostling crowd. There was no bar or seating, just a simple ring with a wooden fence three feet high to separate the crowd from the fight. The ring had one wooden gate and caged path beyond it, leading off into a backroom where no man but Logan McConner was allowed. If a poor soul managed to sneak into the back room they would find it lined with various cages, filled all sorts of vicious dogs amongst other more wild animals the owner had managed to procure before a pack of guard dogs ripped out his throat.
The Meatworks had many events, all of which were gambled upon by a set of designated bookmakers, all of whom paid a handsome cut to Logan. Sometimes they were fairly tame, how many Brats a dog could kill in allotted time or two roosters pecking each other to death. More often than not it was two dogs fighting each other, whether Logan was testing his own beasts against each other though he frequently enjoyed testing his own breeds against any outsider who wished to put his dog on the line. It had even become a common practice to capture a decent looking stray to fight in the ring, both dealing with the problem of wild dogs and giving the "owner" a chance to line his own pockets though Logan outright refused to even test his pack against a skinny mutt that was nearly dead.
On occasion bulls, bear or other animals of the kind would be brought in to fight against his pack, what few farmers that existed in Sunberth were happy to save both the trouble of slaughter and the accept some Mizas for sentencing its beast to death. Rarely though did Logan accept humans as worthy opponents, he had little respect for humans themselves and would only let them fight if they were skilled as unarmed opponents as he refused to allow armed or armoured men into his ring. If they wanted to fight, they had to fight like an animal.
Once a fight is over, the bodies are quickly removed to the back room to be dealt with. Most assume that they are fed to the animals he keep in his cages but rumour has it that Kane Baker has been seen hovering around The Meatworks after dark.
NPC 1
Race: Human
DoB: Fall 78, 483 AV (31 years old)
PoB: Sunberth
Title: Kennel master
Skills: Animal Husbandry (67), Intimidation (43), Weapon - Cleaver (31), Butchery (30), Organisation (17), Gnosis: N/A
Additional Info: Born and raised in Sunberth, Logan never an ideal childhood by the standards of any city. He was the son of butcher, an abusive man with a chip on his shoulder who frequently took his anger regarding his inadequacies out on his son. Whether through nature or nurture Logan soon became a tortured soul, no child wanted to be seen playing with him and so he turned to stray dogs as both a comfort and an outlet for his rage.
He took a job at Killroy's Kennel when he was old enough to hold a pitchfork and start shovelling horseshit. He never cared much for the beasts under Killroy's ownership bar the dogs he kept. Over the years he assumed more responsibility in Kennel's, first cleaning them then training them and finally breeding them until he became the unofficial Kennel master. Rumour has that he garnered his desire to breed the perfect fighting dog when his father came to the Kennel's, still after all his years taking his anger out on his now adult son who had always lacked the Butcher's own brute force, and in the heat of the moment had ordered his dogs to attack.
From then on he became obsessed with the concept of the perfect breed, mixing wild dogs with obedient breeds as he neglected his duties to Killroy and his business. He was eventually fired when a potential buyer tried to buy one of his earlier attempts at this perfect breed and instead found his neck decorating the walls. He didn't leave willingly, instead forced out by Killroy's thug onto the street with nought but a pouch of gold.
No-one knows where he got the money to set up his dog pits nor the beasts to fill the cages. Most dismiss the fire that spread through Kennels and killed Killroy as an unrelated event, but some are suspicious that none of Logan's dogs perished in the fire nor could be found afterwards.
Now he runs the Meatworks, always followed by a pair of the feircest dogs he had bred that still retained the itelligence to only obey him. He's not finished yet, The Meatworks will only be closed when he has the perfect breed at his disposal and he won't accept anything less.
NPC 2
Race: Human
DoB: Summer 86, 464 AV (52 years old)
PoB: Zeltiva
Title: Bookmaker
Skills: Mathematics (57), Observation (41), Negotiation (39), Larceny (30), Rhetoric (27) Gnosis: N/A
Additional Info: Born in Zetliva's rough East Street, Garreth is practically the embodiment of wasted potential. He was the son of cobbler and at young age he displayed a remarkable knack for numbers, his skill was hardly of genius levels but for a boy with little formal education he had a clearly a mind for mathematics. His father worked hard to pay for his tuition in the University, hoping one day that his invest would pay off and he would be lifted from the slums but Garreth proved to be one big disappointed after another. For a time his rebellious nature was forgiven, he showed real promise in classes and what was few missing Mizas here and there anyway?
It wasn't larceny though that forced him out of Zeltiva, it was boredom. Amongst the educated snobs of the University he found himself both a social outcast and incredibly bored with their stupidity. He knew full well that his father would either force him back into the Univeristy if he left or make him pay back ever single coin back so instead he packed his bags and left for the city of Sunberth.
Will most outsiders struggled with its nature, Garreth on the other hand embraced it. Betting on everything he could find someone willing to match and in Sunberth there was always someone willing to make a bet. Nowadays he is one of Sunberth's most prolix bookmakers, matching his sharp mind with a silver tongue as he worked the various fighting pits of the city with ease and took larger, more risky bets for an addictive high.
